The Proposal (no exclamation point required)

I need to preface this post.  I've been looking forward to writing the first part of this, but not so much the last part.  I have never talked about Johnie's actual proposal because it was so disappointing to me. 

I love stories.  I wanted my proposal to be a great story I could tell over and over again.  It isn't.  We agreed never to talk about it. 

One hesitation I had in writing our story in the first place was how to gracefully skip over the proposal.  But my reason for wanting to write all of this down was to preserve it.  To remind us what we've been through and how we got to where we are.  In a world where so many things are fleeting, I wanted something to be left behind as a testament to the Rose-Karr legacy. (Okay, so maybe it's not a legacy yet, but hopefully it will be when we're finished.) 

Shortly after I began writing this blog I decided to embrace the proposal.  It was, after all, part of our story.  It couldn't really be left out.  But then I learned that there are a lot more people than I thought who are actually reading this.  I've appreciated the positive feedback but it made me timid to talk about the proposal that I've spent the last 4 years delicately avoiding in any and all conversation.  Now -- once I am here -- I feel it has to be shared for what it is.


Johnie bought a plane ticket to fly in over Labor Day weekend.  We had planned to have a barbecue with my family the evening he arrived.  While my family knew about the food, they did not know the conversation we had planned for them. 

Teetering between a country girl with old-fashioned values and a modern independant woman who could take care of herself, I wanted Johnie to ask for my hand in marriage.  I didn't want it to be a quick phone call or in-person exchange between Johnie and my father in which Johnie sought permission to marry me. 

Frankly, the only person who needed to permit Johnie to marry me was me.  And I had done that.  But I was still stuck with wanting that initial blessing from my family. 

Notice I said family.  I didn't mind a blessing from my father, but I had spent much more time with my grandfather through the years.  Including him was important to me.  And I really felt it completely rude and senseless to leave my mother out of such a big event. 

So we planned the barbecue -- where they would all be together at once -- to share the news that we planned to marry. 

Johnie was nervous that they wouldn't be supportive.  I reassured him that I really didn't care what they thought.  I told him the only opinion that mattered to me was my mother's.  And I knew she loved him so I was sure she would be excited. 

I also informed Johnie I had planned a trip for us to Natural Bridge the last day of his stay, the place our relationship haphazardly began.  I didn't know when Johnie was going to propose to me, but I knew he needed all the help he could get in the romance department, so I thought that bringing up the Natural Bridge trip well in advance of his arrival might help.

The big day came and I picked Johnie up at the airport.  We had planned to pick up the ring at the mall before the barbecue. 

Johnie seemed even more nervous than usual when we first saw each other (throughout our dating relationship, Johnie would begin visibly shaking the first couple of hours we were together in person).  I chalked it up to the announcement that would be made later that night.  Parked outside the mall, Johnie asked if I was coming in.  I didn't think it was appropriate, so he went in by himself.

Back in the car with the ring he said he had planned to ask me to marry him inside the mall, at the jewelry store. 

It was worse than I thought.  That's a HORRIBLE way to propose!  I told him so.  I also pointed out that it would have been completely wrong to propose before he asked for my family's blessing.  He seemed anxious to get that ring on my finger.

I had long dreamed about my proposal.  I would have taken a grand, over the top, utterly romantic gesture.  I am also quite fond of humor, and would have loved something predictable and cheesy (something much more likely to come from Johnie).  Sizing Johnie up over the last few months, what I expected was something sweet.  Him getting down on one knee in the same spot he had said we would never work several months prior would have been a nice little bow around our relationship. 

In the car on the way to the barbecue, I began to ponder how I would feel if he popped the question right there in front of my family.  I would have been okay with that.  That had quite a bit of sweet potential.  We both knew we were going to marry.  It would be kind of nice for some of my favorite people in the world to be there to witness the big event.

Speaking of my family, I had also long dreamed about the day I would find a prince who would proclaim his undying love to the people who created me, who raised me.  I imagined that Johnie would grab my hand at the table, smile into my eyes, turn to my family and let them know he wanted nothing more than to cherish and provide for me for the rest of his life, that his love for me was stronger than for anyone else and he had decided to make me his wife. 

That's not how it happened.

We all gathered around the table.  As is very common most any day of the week and on any occasion for my mother, there was a big spread.  My family had even splurged for steaks.  The conversation was light and easy, filled with laughter.  I was excited and nervous for what was about to happen.  Everyone settled into eating and things quieted.  This seemed to me like a great opportunity for our big news.  I looked at Johnie.

He seemed extremely interested in his steak.  His face was just a few inches from it, and he was cutting it far more vigorously than its tenderness required.  Before I had a chance to take his hand, smile into his face, and turn to my family to let them know we had something to tell them, thinking this would divert Johnie's attention away from his plate and to the task at hand, Johnie began talking.

Without looking up he said, "So, Amy and I are thinking about getting married.  What do you guys think about that?" 

My boyfriend just asked his steak if he could marry me!  It was disappointing, but I didn't have time to deal with my disappointment then. 

The lull in conversation halted with complete silence at the end of Johnie's question.  It even seemed as though the silence had been announced by the clanking of someone's fork against their plate.  I looked around the table.  My two little brothers sat eerily still, their eyes nervously switching between each other and the table.  For some, food was suspended mid air, between mouth and plate.  Everyone seemed frozen.  Except Johnie, he was still inspecting and cutting his steak.

My dad finally broke the silence with a joke.  We all laughed and dinner resumed.  Johnie finally looked up from his steak as my grandfather sweetly told him to always take care of me, and if we couldn't get along, to bring me back home, that he better never hurt me. 

Throughout a couple more minutes of conversation, my mom continued to sit in silence.  The person whose words I cared to hear the most were not there.  As I felt the conversation was beginning to shift to a different topic, I interrupted.  "Mom, what do you think?"

My precious little mother looked up from her plate, and looked Johnie in the eye.  I sat across the table from them and watched as she said, "I don't want Amy to get married." 

I think both Johnie's and my heart stopped simultaneously.  The one person whose approval we were seeking had denied it. 

Thankfully, after a few tense seconds, she continued her thoughts.  "I mean, I want Amy to get married, I'm just not ready for her to grow up." 

Mom and I had a conversation later, by ourselves, about how she felt about me marrying Johnie, and she did, in fact, approve.

On Sunday, after church, Johnie and I had lunch with friends at their house.  They reminsced about their relationship and brought out picture albums for us to look through.  It was a nice afternoon.  At one point, both our friends had gone upstairs to retrieve more memorabilia.  I look over at Johnie, a comment about the latest set of pictures on the tip of my tongue. 

He is down on one knee.  He has the ring out.  "Amy, will you marry me?" 

I panicked. 

You do not go over to your friends' house and then just randomly propose when they step out of the room.  What happens when they come back?  Surprise, we just thought we'd get engaged while you were freshening up! 

My eyes darted between the stairs and Johnie as I began deciding the best way to get the ring back in his pocket before one of them came down and this situation became even worse.  "Put the ring back in your pocket!" I whispered.

Johnie's whole face changed.  "But, Amy... will you marry me?" 

I cover the ring with my hand.  "Yes, of course I will marry you.  Just please put the ring away." 

Johnie was still very confused, "but..." 

I felt like there was a time bomb ticking and I didn't know how much longer I had until one of our friends came back downstairs and it exploded, until I was stuck with this being my proposal.  "Johnie, I will marry you.  I just don't want it to be like this.  Please put the ring away before someone comes downstairs.  We can talk about this later." 

I could tell I had ruined his day.  We did manage to get through the rest of the afternoon until we could be alone together again in the car.  I let him know how I felt.  How that felt very embarrassing for me.  How that I wanted it to be a story we could share throughout the years to come.  This was a big deal.  This was the official beginning of our commitment to each other.

He explained that he thought getting engaged at some of my best friends' house seemed sweet to him.  He thought that since they had been so involved throughout our entire relationship I would like it.  He also thought I would have enjoyed showing off the ring to the other friends we all met up with later that afternoon. 

It was Johnie logic.  I understood it.  It just felt very awkward to me.  Maybe if my friends had known what was about to happen, maybe if there had been a big plan, a sweet monologue about Johnie's love for me that had been missing from every significant event in our relationship so far, maybe it would have worked.  I just couldn't get past the fact that you don't go over to someone else's house for dinner, and then get engaged in their dining room while they're busily unaware prepping the salad in their kitchen.

We decided that we would pretend this never happened.  We would not talk about it.  He could propose again later.  My not accepting his proposal had nothing to do with him, I still wanted to marry him, I just wanted a sweet romantic proposal. 

I began talking again about our trip to Natural Bridge the following day.  He seemed really eager to propose, so I was sure he'd do it then.  I provided many not so subtle hints.  I talked about friends who had gotten engaged at Natural Bridge.  I talked about taking the same trail we had taken when we started our relationship.  Surely, with enough work, I could get a sweet proposal out of him.

Later that evening, back at my apartment, I go into my bedroom to put something away.  Johnie follows me.  When I turn around he is sitting on my bed holding the ring.  He looks up from the diamond to my face.  He holds the ring out a couple inches and asks quietly, "will you marry me now?" 

I've often said that if we ever do have children, if we ever do have a little boy, and that little boy has a face like Johnie's, he will have me wrapped around his little finger doing whatever he wants to do.  He will be spoiled rotten because he'll be able to get me to give in to whatever he wants. 

I wanted to say, "no, Johnie, not this way.  Can you not get this right?  Do you not understand we are going to Natural Bridge tomorrow?  Do you not understand that just holding out my ring, not even down on one knee, while you're sitting on my bed, which will raise some people's suspicions, by the way, is not sweet or romantic?" 

But, I looked at his face.  Looked into his eyes.  He seemed a bit defeated, confused, unsure.  I had put that doubt there.  I had hurt him by not accepting the proposal earlier that day.

I stood there considering my choices.  If I said yes, then this would be my proposal.  There would be no going back.  If I said no, then Johnie would try again.  He might get it wrong again and I would be at these same crossroads again. 

He might get it right.  He might get it amazingly right, and when I showed off the ring  to all my friends and they asked how he proposed, I could tell them.  They would gush about how romantic Johnie was, what a catch I got. 

I considered that, how it would feel to brag about an amazing proposal.  Didn't I deserve that?

For me, an amazing proposal would have been bittersweet at this point.  If I did get one, and I did share it with others, and they did gush, I would always know that that wasn't the real proposal.  That we had several takes before the final cut.  That I kept making Johnie try again until he got it right. 

I didn't want to be that girl. 

While I am plagued with caring about what others think about me, I try extremely hard to never be fake, to always be genuine.  To claim an amazing proposal in this way would not really be real. 

So, I stood there, still considering my options.  While I hadn't realized up until this point just how un-romantic Johnie was, I knew romance wasn't his forte.  I had had romance before.  Smooth talkers, fancy dates, big bouquets of expensive flowers, gifts, love letters, the whole nine yards.  I could have it again.  But I didn't want it. 

I wanted Johnie. 

And, so, in that moment, I said yes.  I said yes to Johnie.  He put the ring on my finger, and I held his face in my hands and we kissed. 

I may never have amazingly romantic experiences in my life, but I do have an amazing husband.  I may not have gotten Prince Charming, but I did get someone who is completely and utterly, 100% devoted to me.  Someone who cherishes me, who makes me a priority in his life, who stands by me, supports me, and encourages me.  Someone who knows my downfalls and shortcomings, but never criticizes me.  Someone who loves me like I dreamed my husband would. 

I may not have gotten the right proposal, but I did get the right husband.  I realized Labor Day weekend 2006 which one was most important.